User blog:Leolab/Mission Sixteen: Uncharted Depths, Part One: Politics Have No Relation to Morals
Yorke looks at the flashing airlock light, waiting for the door to disengage. Lloyd had docked with their ship, and was entering; The rest of the crew was resting in their rooms, and he was waiting for his employer. The door finally opens, and the tall, thin humanoid steps in, tipping his trademark hat. "I've found it," he says, without preamble, "The purple Key is on Toka." "Excellent. Where?" "The Ocean." Yorke gives Lloyd a blank look, unsure of how serious his employer is. "I aint joking, it's in the Ocean. Best I can tell, it's mobile. Likely eaten by an Inyb in the Dark." Yorke shuddered slightly; he'd been to Toka a couple times on supply runs. The tales the native Niso told of the Dark - the places in the planet-spanning ocean without any light - always made his blood run cold. Tales of massive creatures were commonplace, and generally accepted as true. He was once told a three-thousand-year-old myth about a cyan mass that was impervious to all harm, and consumed without end; this was met with more skepticism from outsiders, but the War of the Demons - one cyan and one dark blue - was a well-known Tokan legend, so there was likely some truth to it. "Once you've finished reminiscing," Lloyd says, "There's a couple things you need to be told." He waits for Yorke's acknowledgement, and continues, "The first is that my name won't generate much pull on Toka. I'm too neutral for their tastes; you'll have to do a favor for one of the factions there to get access to a sub. The second is that I'm going to be observing the next few missions." As Lloyd speaks, he holds out his hand. Bits of his mass form a miniature Lloyd, about a foot in height; the replica is exact, from the hat, to the blue kurta and red cargo pants, to the ash-grey skin and burning red eyes. "You lot are too likely to be targeted by Kathla for me to let you go without any form of insurance. As of now, said insurance is me. I can help by providing knowledge, but don't expect me to fight or persuade. That's your prerogative; I'm not here to do your mission for you." The mini-Lloyd stretches himself off the larger Lloyd's hand and onto Yorke's shoulder. "Now I'm busy," the two Lloyds say in unison, "So you'll find contracts from both the Merchants and the Centralists on your communication console. Gather your entire team there." Yorke nods, slightly creeped out by his employer. Lloyd turns and walks back into the airlock, letting out a dry chuckle, which was also done in unison. Yorke, realizing he'd been trolled again, glares at Lloyd's back. He walks to the communication room and calls the crew in, bringing the two jobs up on the screen. He explains the situation. "And here are the two contracts. Give them a read and tell me which ones you want to do." "The Merchants are looking to maintain the status quo," BOB-5's voice floats through the speakers, "Maintaining the corrupt 'democracy' that currently runs the planet. They've got far more wealth than the Centralists, so we might be able to get some cash as well as the sub." "And the Centralists are looking for change," BOB-5 expounds, "replacing corruption with a more balanced oligarchy, and centralizing the government. They're poorer than the Merchants, but also more likely to try and win our trust. We're likely to get some extra stuff, like weaponry, other than the sub." Category:Blog posts